Monday, May 15, 2006

109. FROM FATHER TO SON - John Stuart Williams

.There is no limit to the number of timesYour father can come to life, and he is as tender as ever he wasAnd as poor, his overcoat buttoned to the throat,His face blue from the wind that always blows in the outer darknessHe comes towards you, hesitant,Unwilling to intrude and yet driven at the point of loveTo this encounter.

You may thinkThat love is all that is left of him, but when he comesHe comes with all his winters and all his wounds.He stands shivering in the empty street,Cold and worn like a tramp at the end of a journeyAnd yet a shape of unquestioning love that youUneasy and hesitant of the cold touch of deathMust embrace.

Then, before you can touch himHe is gone, leaving on your fingersA little more of his wearinessA little more of his love.